


Taking Your Lumps

by AnonEhouse



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Fairy tale, Fractured Fairy Tale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 19:31:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony bruises easily, and Steve thinks this is a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Your Lumps

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

It's not Natasha's job to answer the door. Usually the castle would have been full of staff and guests and activity, even at this hour of the evening, but most of the castle's residents have gone to bed early while Thor directs thunderstorms over the grain fields. You can't really concentrate on anything with the constant rumble and crack of thunder and lightning so King Fury had given everyone the night off.

Natasha doesn't believe in nights off. True, no one has tried to attack them in years, not since Prince Steve reached his majority and proved himself on the battlefield, but she's been night guard for so long the darkness keeps her awake. She has excellent hearing, due to her part cat ancestry, and a healthy dose of curiosity as well, so when she hears the knocking she goes to the main door and opens it, ignoring King Fury's protocols. Really, there's no need to awaken Bruce the day guard for this-- he's always grouchy when his sleep is interrupted.

She frowns at the man standing dripping on the front mat. His clothes are filthy, torn and splotched with mud and grease. He has a ragged beard and hair that sticks up in random spikes, and in general, she's totally unimpressed. "What are you doing here? Minister Coulson sent criers advising of the planned storm, so anyone with an ounce of sense is at home, not tramping the road."

"I'm not a tramp." The man sneezes.

"Peddler, then. Go away, we don't need any."

"I'm a prince!"

"Oh, I can tell." Natasha shakes her head. The man looks like a drowned rat. She rather likes playing with rats, but the prince disapproves. Prince Steve will most certainly disapprove sending a crazy beggar away in the rain. "Go around to the stable then. I'll let you spend the night there. You're not tracking mud in on the marble floors in here."

"I really am a prince! Prince Tony of Stark!"

"Never heard of you, or it." Natasha doesn't budge. Crazy Tony isn't any taller than her, and he doesn't stand like a fighter, so she's really not worried about her ability to handle him.

"My minister took over and kicked me out!"

"Well, then you're not a prince any more, are you?" Sometimes you can reason with crazy people. Tony doesn't look stupid, at least. "How did you get here?"

"I used my flying boat."

"Where is it?" Natasha is beginning to be amused. Maybe Tony could be a court jester. They don't have one, and sometimes banquets become boring.

"It got hit by lightning."

Tony does smell a bit singed. Well, if Thor zapped the poor fool, it's really their obligation at least to feed and shelter him. "Go to the stable." Natasha leans out to point in the proper direction. "I'll bring you some hot food and dry clothes, and you can sleep there. In the morning you can talk to the king."

Tony sighs. "Fine. If that's your best offer, I'll take it."

***

Prince Steve likes to get up early and go for a ride with his favorite warhorse, Bucky. It's particularly enjoyable the day after a rain when everything smells fresh and clean. He enters the stable, whistling, and gets ten paces before he notices the occupant of the normally empty box stall. He blinks at the scruffy man snoring on a pile of straw. The very naked, and very bruised and battered man, sleeping with one hand loosely clasping a bottle that Steve recognizes as horse medicine. He wrinkles his nose at the strong alcohol scent.

"Hello?" Steve moves a little closer and nudges the man's foot with his riding boot. "Good morning?"

The man opens his eyes to thin brown slits and looks up at Steve. "Urgh," he replies, intelligently.

"Did you run away from a cruel master?" Steve looks at the bruises and frowns. 

"Coffee." 

"What?"

The man closes his eyes. "Too early. Go away."

"I'm Prince Steve of Shield." Steve's initial feelings of sympathy are dissipating. "You will show me the proper respect."

The brown eyes open wide. "Oh, my god, it is a prince! Still need coffee." The man's eyes shut again.

"There's no point expecting sense from a drunk."

"Am not drunk. Just... tired. What do you people put in this straw, ROCKS?" The man finally sits up and rubs at his backside. He yawns. "I'm a prince, too. Prince Tony of Stark." He waves one hand. "Not that I expect you to believe me."

"How did you get here?" Steve doesn't really believe the man, but most people who aren't princes tend to bow down to him, or at least try not to be rude.

"A nice woman... no, a really scary woman... let me in last night. Are you sure there isn't coffee around somewhere?" The man flops back in the really comfortable looking pile of nice fresh straw. "Ow. Rocks."

Steve frowns. "This is the palace stable, there are no rocks in the straw."

"Tell that to my ass." The man turns over, and Steve has to admit there are bruises on the very nice ass. Very. Nice. Ass.

Steve clears his throat. "Well, as Prince of the realm, it's my duty to inspect things like that." He kneels and begins feeling for rocks in the straw, and only occasionally touching Tony. Just... every once in a while. Hard not to because Tony keeps squirming, apparently trying to find a comfortable place in the straw.

Steve hears the stable door open, but he's not paying much attention. He hasn't found any rocks, but he's still searching. "Prince Steven!" Steve is startled not only by Natasha's voice, but by the disapproving tone.

"What?" Steve says, releasing his grip on something that had been growing rock-hard. 

"I know he's crazy, but beating him isn't going to make him sensible, you know. That idea went out ages ago." Natasha purses her lips. "Of course, the snake pit theory is still going around... but we don't have one."

"Beat him!" Steve sits up, outraged. "I did not! He was like that when I came in here!"

"Well, he wasn't like that when I left him last night!" Natasha takes her job very seriously. So she'd checked him over thoroughly the night before in the interests of security. Very thoroughly. She liked the birthmark.

"HEY!" Tony sits up. "It's the rocks, all right! The rocks in the straw."

"There aren't any rocks!" Steve says.

"Lumps then! I bruise easily." Tony rolls his eyes. "It's a Prince thing, where I come from."

"Oh." Steve looks at Tony, and then grins. "So, you really are a prince?"

***

Castle Shield stocks up on coffee and everyone grows accustomed to Prince Tony coming to breakfast with a few round red bruises on his neck to complain about the little lump in his mattress.

Prince Steve always blushes, and mutters, 'not so little.'


End file.
